Nowhere to Fall
by Red Talon
Summary: What was the Bat-Family doing throughout the Riddler's reign of terror? With the death of Bruce Wayne, how can the family put an end to Riddler's schemes? Even if they manage to somehow stop the Riddler, how will they fare against a threat far more sinister?
1. Will

Hello, everyone!

If you haven't read Nowhere to Climb yet, I recommend reading it before you begin this story. Although many of the chapters coincide and happen simultaneously with corresponding chapters of the other story, I wrote Nowhere to Fall as a tie-in to the original Nowhere to Climb story, so it will be hard to fully appreciate it without the background knowledge from the proceeding story.

Enjoy! Please post reviews! I'm eager to hear some of your thoughts, opinions, and ideas!

* * *

_This story takes place before and during the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapter 1._

* * *

I walked down the damp and musty stairwell and across a long passageway of solid rock to reach him. He was sitting in front of the Batcomputer, as usual, with his signature 'I'm the Batman, hear me brood' face. He was deciphering Nygma's latest riddle. It doesn't take him long. It never does. I glance at the huge monitor and read the large words, printed in purple across the emerald-colored screen.

_"I channel the filth and give home to the poor, I run through the ground from Lincoln to Moore. For death traps and hideouts, I've got enough space. Will you have the time to find this place?"_

"It's the sewer system beneath the Bowery, isn't it, Bruce? Lincoln Street and Moore Avenue. It's the intersection right next to the crossway at Lincoln and March. There's a manhole down that way."

"No, Dick. Look at the last sentence. It's a question. 'The time to find this place…' Remember, in a riddle, the most obvious answer is rarely the right one. It's the old sewer system beneath the Northern Burnley District. It loops back around to the Bowery and the only entrance is beneath the old clock tower. 'Time', get it?"

"Well, I suppose that's a possibility too," I teased. "Well done, as usual, Bruce."

"You're still learning, Dick. You're doing much better than I was at your age. I'm glad you decided to return to Gotham."

"Thanks," I responded. "Damian still hates me, though. Him and I just won't get along, period."

"Remember, Dick, our mistakes can often be used to define us. But looking passed the mistakes, to something greater, is everything."

"More words of wisdom..." I grinned. "Are you sure you don't want me to tag along?"

"I'll be fine. Besides, I need you and Damian to investigate the Penguin. We don't have solid evidence yet, but he's working with Two-Face on something. They've formed some sort of partnership."

"Alright, Bruce," I said with a smile.

Bruce smiled back and said, "Be careful out there."

"You too, old man."

Bruce leaped into the Batmobile and drove off down the dark tunnel into the city.

I heard footsteps on the stairs. Light but firm. Damian.

"Has father left, Grayson?"

I turn to the young boy, his green mask stuck to his face, his yellow cape streaming down behind him, his black hood resting on his shoulders and draping down the center of his back. His green boots planted firmly on the floor rose up to his knees and when they ended, revealed the black Kevlar-enforced combat armor covering his legs. His utility belt shimmered in the emerald light from the Batcomputer's monitor as his dark red chest piece covered his torso. His green gloves curled into fists at his sides, almost menacingly. He always seemed so angry.

"Yeah, Damian. He just left for a Riddler bust."

"When do you expect him to return?"

"I don't know, probably before the sun's up. Like, 3:30, maybe."

"Very well. I'll be training down the hall. Let me know when he arrives."

"Why are you so eager to see him, big guy?"

"He told me that we could install the latest upgrades to the Batwing together."

"Gotcha, buddy," I said with a smile. It's easy to forget how young Damian is. He only wants to spend some time with his Dad.

"Farewell, Grayson."

"See you, bud."

I take a seat in front of the Batcomputer, uninstall the remote virus containing Nygma's riddle, and begin working on a security bypass key for the Iceberg Casino. Robin and I can't just barge in. There are innocents in the building. An all-out fight is too risky. We'll need to take a more subtle approach.

I finally found the passkey algorithm to the Casino's computer system. I upload the credentials to the cryptographic sequencer built into my right gauntlet.

"Robin? Come here," I yell.

Damian runs toward me, his cape trailing through the air behind him. "What is it, Grayson?"

"Bruce wants us to investigate a newly formed partnership between Penguin and Two-Face. I just cracked the Iceberg Lounge's security. We've got to get in through the air duct on the back wall of the kitchen and get to Cobblepot's office without raising any alarms. The intel's more valuable if Penguin doesn't know we have it."

"Alright, Grayson. I'll drive."

Damian turned and started to run but I extended my arm and grabbed his cape, pulling him back.

"I don't think so," I laughed. I walked toward the center console of the vehicle bay and spoke.

"Get me the Batmobile Mk. III."

The console responded. "Voice activation confirmed. Grayson, Richard. Access level: High. Vehicle retrieval in progress."

The circular launch pad in the center of the platform lowered into the vehicle storage bay beneath us and rose back up several seconds later with the shimmering black vehicle on top of it.

I leaped into the driver's seat as Damian climbed into the seat next to me.

I slammed my foot on the gas pedal and the car shot off down the winding passageway out of the Batcave.

I parked the Batmobile in one of Bruce's safe houses about two blocks away from the Iceberg Lounge.

"We're taking the combat boot express from here, Damian," I said playfully, climbing out of the car.

"This mission will be far more bearable without your constant attempts at humor, Grayson."

"Fair enough."

We grappled up to the roof and worked together to rip the grate off of the air duct opening.

"God," I say, bewildered. "How does Bruce get those off so easily?"

"After you, Grayson," Damian said gesturing toward the open duct.

I climbed through the opening and dropped down into the kitchen. I quickly surveyed the room and called for Damian once I'd determined that the room was clear.

We continued through the shadows, clinging to chandeliers and crawling through air ducts until we finally reached the Penguin's office. He sat in his recliner on the phone behind his smooth mahogany desk.

Through the grate of the air duct we'd climbed into on the other side of the wall, Damian and I could see and hear everything.

"Well, my friend," the Penguin squawked. "It seems as if we have reached an agreement. You keep your half of the city and I stay nice and cozy up in my nest here at the Berg. If there are ever any threats to your territory, as per our arrangement, I'll let you know immediately. I'm glad we could work out a mutually beneficial relationship here, Mr. Dent." The Penguin leans back in his chair. "Oh, pardon me, I meant Two-Face."

Dent spoke of the other end of the phone. We couldn't make out what he was saying because of the whirring of machinery throughout the air duct we sat in.

Cobblepot responded. "No, Two-Face. I'd never deal with Mr. Dent. You're right."

Dent spoke.

"Alright, Two-Face. Pleasure doin' business."

The Penguin placed the phone back onto the platform, hanging up.

"Damn bloke is off his rocker," he muttered. Penguin left the office and closed the door behind him.

I softly yet firmly pushed the air duct until the bolts flew off the wall and the grate slid down. I dropped silently down to the floor in front of the office and stepped forward out of the way so Damian could do the same.

Damian stood guard at the door while I crept over to the desk and opened the drawer beneath it. I thumbed through file after file until I found one labeled 'Dent, Harvey (Two-Face)'. I grabbed the file and scanned every document inside it with the camera built into my mask. Then I used my cryptographic sequencer to unlock the Penguin's desktop terminal. I opened a folder named, 'Two-Face Contract' and downloaded its contents to the remote storage unit in my left gauntlet.

"I've got what we need, Robin. Let's go."

"Quiet, Nightwing! There's someone coming," he whispered.

Damian leaped back into the air duct as I rolled across the room to recover the grate. I climbed up the wall and into the air duct as the office door opened. I held the grate tightly to the wall, to make it seem as if the grate were still attached. Damian squeezed his arm by me, wielding a glue grenade capsule. He silently broke open the capsule and adhesive paste flung to each corner of the grate, sticking it firmly to the inside of the duct.

A thug clad in black cargo pants and a navy blue parka peered into the room, the light coming in from the window barely illuminating the penguin emblem printed on the tank top underneath the open parka. He glanced around the room and once he decided it was secure, he closed the door.

"Let's go, Robin," I whisper.

Damian whirls around and continues through the ventilation shaft. Finally, we return to the roof of the building from which we'd entered from.

I turned to my brother and smiled. "Good job, Damian. The glue grenade was quick thinking."

"Thank you, Grayson. Let's get back home. Father is probably there already."

"Alright, big guy. Home it is."

Damian turned and leaped off the side of the building, grabbing each end of his yellow cape and pulling them outward, allowing him to glide through the air.

"He's a strong kid," I thought to myself. "He can handle pretty much anything. He's got his old man's will."


	2. Strength

_This story takes place after the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapter 1 and before the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapter 2_

* * *

"Hey, Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Richard?"

The tall and slender butler turned to me, away from the bookshelf he was dusting. His sharp, black tuxedo was so clean it almost glistened in the light from the chandelier above us.

"Is Bruce back yet?"

"Unfortunately not, sir. I'm beginning to worry to a much higher degree than I do on a nightly basis."

"I'm going to look for him later tonight. It's still only 8:00; I'll give him a few more hours to turn up. I'll just prep in the cave until then."

I hear someone approaching behind me. He almost took me by surprise.

Almost.

"If you're going to find my father, I'm coming with you."

I knelt down to come face to face with Damian, dressed in a black button up shirt and blue jeans.

"Listen, Damian. I need you here. There's still a good terabyte or two of information that we nabbed from Penguin's terminal. Why don't you go down to the cave and sort through it. Bruce and I will help you when we get back."

"Very well, Grayson. Do be careful."

"Thanks, buddy," I said with a light smile. "I will."

I walked over to the bookcase that Alfred was dusting so meticulously and ran my fingers over each book until I found it. 'The Founding of Gotham City,' written by William Solomon Wayne in 1896.

I gently tipped the top corner of the book's spine outward causing it to slant until I heard a faint, 'click'.

I spoke. "Richard Grayson."

"Voice authentication: Confirmed."

I stepped back as the bookcase swung open revealing a steel elevator. I stepped inside and descended into the Batcave.

I walked over to the armory on the opposite side of the cave and grabbed my suit. I placed my mask over the bridge of my nose and smoothed it down over my eyes. I pulled my black tights up from my feet to my shoulders and the automatic connection device sealed the costume in the back like a high-tech zipper. "I still don't know how Bruce made that zipper thing," I thought to myself.

I stepped into my boots and pulled my gauntlets over each hand and sprinted to the vehicle bay.

I approached the center console and spoke. "Batcycle Mk. I," I ordered.

"Voice activation confirmed. Grayson, Richard. Access level: High. Vehicle retrieval in progress."

The platform lowered as it had 2 nights before to bring Robin and me the Batmobile. This time, the platform rose again with a sleek black motorcycle on top.

I jumped onto the Batcycle and sped off through the tunnel.

I was well on my way to the clock tower when I heard a scream for help.

"Please! Help me!" A woman was screaming.

I glanced down at the Batcycle's radar to find that the disturbance was 3 blocks behind me. I pulled up on the handles of the Batcycle, raising the front of the vehicle into the air as it rested on the back wheel. I spun around on the back wheel and shot off to the location of the screaming. I arrived in less than 7 seconds. I parked the Batcycle and jumped off of it, landing right behind the thugs. There were 8 criminals. They looked like some of Falcone's men. They had cornered a young woman in an alley, attempting to take the woman's purse, and probably something far more valuable as well.

"Back away from her," I ordered.

The criminals turned around. One stepped forward with a smug grin and asked, "Or what, little birdie?"

I muttered, annoyed, "Oh, now you've done it…"

I leapt over the heads of the first 4 men and landed in the middle of the crowd that quickly circled around me. I scanned them all with the sonar vision in my mask. None of them were armed.

One swung his fist at me. I ducked and grabbed his arm, pushing my back into his chest and pulling his arm over my shoulder. I slung the thug over my head and into 3 of his 'associates'. The 3 men that were hit by him were pushed back into a wall and slammed their heads back into the solid brick. The four men slumped to the ground, unconscious. Another thug approached me on my right, and another on my left. They both swung their fists toward my face. I grabbed each of their arms and forced them into each other in front of me, slamming their faces together with a nerve-racking crack of bones. The last two charged me together. I vaulted over both of them, jumping up and kicking off of their backs for extra support. The force of my kicks pushed both of them to the ground. Before they could stand, I flipped around in midair and landed on my knees, one knee on each goon. I leaned forward toward their heads, face down in the sludge of the alley floor. I grabbed both men by their hair and slammed their faces into the pavement.

I stood and extended my arm to the woman, who accepted it gratefully. I pointed my hand at the roof of a nearby building and shot a small grappling hook from my right gauntlet. I pulled myself up, the woman tightly and safely against my side.

On the roof of the building, a small apartment complex, she expressed her gratitude.

"Thank you so much! I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't shown up to stop those men."

"Not a problem, Miss," I told her, with a friendly nod.

"How did you know that this was my apartment building?" She was impressed.

"It's my business to know who's who in Gotham, Miss. Have a nice night. There's a stairwell on the east end of the building that you can take to any floor."

I turned around and shot my grappling hook toward a nearby streetlight and pulled on the rope as I jumped off of the building to break my fall.

As I climbed onto the Batcycle, I heard, much to my annoyance, "Thanks again, Robin!"

I sighed in irritation. "I'm not even wearing green," I thought.

Without giving it another moment of my time, I continued on to the clock tower's sewer entrance.

…

…

…

I didn't want to admit it, but I had my doubts. I found his blood.

I didn't have the strength to keep going. I had to stop and think. I stood there for at least 20 minutes, staring down at the pool of blood. I took a swab of it and put in in the compartment of my right boot. I'll have Alfred analyze it back at the cave.

"How could this have happened?" I thought.

I was alone in the sewer system. Riddler had left at least a day ago. No trail to follow. But I hear movement behind me. I spin around, escrima sticks drawn. I'm ready for anything.

"Oh, thank god!" Jack Ryder screamed running toward me.

"Ryder," I say. Where are the other hostages?"

"This one lady is down this hallway, I'll show you. Batman must've had important stuff to do. He left right after he shut off the water, saving our lives. I got out of my trap because I just happen to have a pen in my back pocket. I picked the lock on my handcuffs. I couldn't save the other lady though. My pen broke. We've been down here for at least a day now. We thought Batman would come back for us."

"Just take me to the hostage, Ryder."

"Follow me," he said with a nod.


	3. Discipline

_This story takes place immediately before the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapter 2_

* * *

"How have you survived down here, Ryder?" I asked, running down a hallway behind the troubled journalist. His suit had holes, his tie was torn, and his glasses were broken but, somehow, still sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose. He's been down here too long.

"I found some food in a cooler where Riddler's control room was. We're lucky you found us. We're almost out."

We arrived at the end of the passageway to find an old woman with grey hair flowing down her back. Her purple gown glistened with elegance but was stained with dirt and muck at the same time. Her hands were bound above her head to a long pipe. She's been standing this whole time. Poor lady.

"I'm going to get you out of here, ma'am," I told her.

I reached up with a small lockpick in my hand and freed the woman's bruised wrists from the steel handcuffs.

She immediately fell to the ground and began sobbing with joy.

"Thank you! Thank you!" She praised. "I was certain I'd die here!"

"No one's dying on my watch, ma'am," I said with a smile, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "Now let's get you out of here."

"Nothing. Absolutely no information on Riddler's whereabouts. It's like every single thug in Gotham thinks he's still at Arkham," I said, frustrated.

"That's unlikely, Grayson. Nygma must have hired muscle. Someone knows where he is." Damian looked worried. "Father never goes missing for this long. Maybe Riddler moved him out of the city."

Alfred interjected. "Perhaps Master Bruce was whisked away on another assignment with the Justice League."

"I already checked, Alfred. Vic said the League hasn't met in weeks," I replied.

"Well, if you two believe that sitting in a dank cave will solve our problems, do so," Damian snarled. "I'm going to keep looking through the city."

"I'll go with you buddy," I said. "Alfred, stay at the Batcomputer and let me know if Bruce's tracker comes online."

"Of course, sir."

"Batmobile Mk. III," Damian ordered.

"Voice activation confirmed. Wayne, Damian. Access level: High. Vehicle retrieval in progress."

"Wait a minute," I said, walking toward him. "Bruce gave you vehicle permissions?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"You're like 8."

"I am 10, Grayson, and was trained by some of the deadliest assassins alive."

"Mhm…"

I whipped a small bola from my gauntlet and flung it toward Damian, distracting him long enough for me to jump into the driver's seat.

Damian, accepting defeat, spitefully climbed into the seat beside me and we sped off through the tunnel.

Several hours later, Alfred contacted me via communicator.

"Master Richard? I believe I may have found something to assist in our search."

"We'll return to the Batcave after we finish roughing up this last goon."

"Jolly good, sir."

I ducked and allowed Damian to flip over my head and land on the shoulders of the tall, shirtless thug standing before me. The weight of Damian's kick forced him to the ground as the young boy flipped forward and landed behind the stumbling brute. When the goon hit the ground, Robin forced his foot into the man's face and began to yell.

"Where is the Riddler?"

"I don't know! I swear!"

"Do you have any idea how many bones in your face I can break right now?"

"Please! Don't hurt me! I don't know nothin'!"

"Robin," I say, slightly worried for the man's safety. "Let's go."

"I'm not finished here, Nightwing."

"Yes, you are. Would he want you to do this?"

Damian looked down at the criminal and then at me.

After a moment of contemplation, he released the thug and walked toward the Batmobile.

"Nice job, buddy," I said. "That was good discipline. He'd be proud if he were here to see."

"Let's just see what Pennyworth has found," he said coldly.

"Sure thing, big guy."

"What is it, Alfred?" I asked walking toward the Batcomputer, Damian at my side.

"It would seem Mr. Cobblepot has updated his deal with Two-Face."

"What do you mean, Pennyworth?"

"I recovered a phone call from last night. It would seem Mr. Cobblepot is planning on meeting with the Riddler tomorrow morning. I'll play the recording for you."

The Batcomputer whirred as the file was accessed.

"_Who's this?" Penguin squawked._

"_Two-Face. I need you to do something."_

"_Ah! My favorite business partner! Whatever you need, I'll provide, my loyal associate."_

"_Can it, Cobblepot. You only want my weapons. Don't flatter me."_

"_Ah, so we can cut to the chase, eh? Good."_

"_Have you heard about Nygma's recent victory?"_

"_Only rumors."_

"_Meet with him, Cobblepot. I need to know what he's up to. My operation is too far along in development to risk him upsetting the balance of things."_

"_Understood, Two-Face. I'll have my boys pick him up tomorrow morning."_

"_You know where he's holed up?"_

"_Not exactly. But, I can contact him."_

"_Very well, Cobblepot."_

"Alfred you're brilliant!" I exclaimed. "We'll stake out the Iceberg Lounge tomorrow morning and see if we can intercept them."

"Not at all, Master Richard. For now, you two should get some sleep."

"Alright, Alfred," I said with a smile. "Thanks."


	4. Tragedy

_This story takes place during the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapters 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6._

* * *

I sat on the deck of a docked boat at the Dixon Docks, near the Iceberg Lounge. Robin knelt beside me, both of us shrouded in the shadow of the boat's railing. Below us a sleek limousine pulled up to a short, figure underneath a black umbrella.

The limo's driver got out of his seat and circled around the front of the vehicle to open the back door.

As the door was opened a tall, slender man stepped out. His green bowler hat cast a shadow on his face, leaving only his smug grin visible. His dark green suit jacket rustled in the breeze. He held in front of him a sleek, black cane with a glistening, emerald question mark on top.

They began talking.

"How the bloody hell did you do it?" Penguin asked.

Every second draws me closer to the truth that I've been denying to accept. I glance at Damian and I can tell he feels the same way.

The conversation went on.

Eventually, the two men strolled merrily toward the Casino.

I looked at Damian, tears rolling down his face.

I didn't know what to say.

I wiped a small tear from my cheek.

"Robin," I said, my voice shaking. "I think we have the information we came for."

Back in the cave, I sat in Bruce's chair in front of the Batcomputer. Robin had moved past the point of sadness. Now, after 6 hours of tears, he felt only anger.

He angrily beat a training post until his fists were red with blood and Alfred stopped him.

"Master Damian, enough," Alfred said softly. "Please."

None of us were sure what to do. So, we did nothing.

The cycle of tragedy continued for several days.

I haven't been able to reach Tim or Jason.

Barbara is out in California with the Birds of Prey.

We are on our own.

Damian and I just skulked around the cave for days until Alfred turned to the GCN channel and we heard the news.

_"This is Vicki Vale reporting live from the Dixon Docks overlooking the Iceberg Lounge and Casino where it has just been reported that the facility's owner and manager, Oswald Cobblepot, has gone missing and is presumed dead. Cobblepot was reported to have fallen into the Gotham Bay yesterday and hasn't been seen since. _

_Ownership of the casino has been handed over to Edward Nygma, otherwise known as the notorious Riddler. Despite his latest scheme in which he kidnapped my associate, Jack Ryder and two other citizens, he is still operating publicly, leading me to believe that he has the friends on the inside of our justice department. Back to you, Jack."_

"Well," Alfred began. "It would seem Mr. Cobblepot finally reached the end of his rope."

Damian walked toward Alfred and I. "Nygma must have discovered that Penguin was working for Two-Face."

"You're probably right, Damian," I said. "Bruce will-" I choked on my own words. No. Bruce won't.

It hasn't been easy. He was always there.

Alfred must have read my mind. He looked at me and said, "Master Richard, you know what you must do. Make him proud."

I smiled, turning to face the Batcomputer and activated a scan of the city, looking for any security alerts.

"Dixon Docks. The North side. About half an hour from the Iceberg," I said aloud. "There's a break in. Camera feeds show Croc and a ton of goons."

"Well then, Grayson," Damian said, pulling his hood over his head. "What are we waiting for?"


	5. Failure

_This story takes place during the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapter 6_

* * *

The crescent moon glimmered enticingly through the night sky, its light glistening down on the calm waves of the sea.

I arrived with Damian in less than 20 minutes. Croc and the goons were already inside.

I leapt off the rusted steel roof of the warehouse across from the one that we're here to defend. I landed softly on the ground before the large door. Robin landed softly behind me.

"Let's take them out," he said.

"Hang on, Robin," I replied. "Listen."

We heard Croc's rough voice like rocks scraping the ground.

"Listen up! The boss says the Batcave is somewhere under here. Find a way to get below. There's a switch or somethin' somewhere."

I turned to Robin to see that he was just as confused as I.

We knelt by the door, waiting for the thugs to make a move, when we heard someone inside the warehouse yell.

"Yo, Croc! This green shit's comin' out the vent!"

Another thug chimed in.

"Oh, shit, man! The fuck is that?"

"Let's go, Robin," I said, approaching the door.

We stepped inside to see about 30 thugs and Croc right in the middle.

"Robin," I said. "Get your rebreather. We don't know what this toxin is."

Robin slid his glimmering metallic oxygen filter over his nose and mouth. I did the same.

"It would seem that they don't know either," he said. "Could Nygma have set them up?"

"We'll talk about it later."

I stepped out of the shadows, Robin close behind me.

"Alright, boys," I said with a smile. "I'd ask first, but I think I can guess your decision."

Robin stepped forward. "The hard way, right?"

"Get 'em!" Croc growled.

Robin pulled smoke pellets from his utility belt and threw them to the ground.

As a cloud of smoke rose from the broken capsules, encircling us in fog, we launched our grappling hooks up to the ceiling and clung to support beams in the darkness.

"Only 6 have guns," Robin whispered.

"Good," I replied. "I'll take the ones on the right."

"Very well," he said."

I pounced onto a thug armed with an AK-47 machine gun. I shot through the air, arms extended and grabbed his shoulders. Clutching the grimy, black tank top covering his torso, I flipped over him, pulling him up into the air and forward into two other thugs, as my feet rested on the floor. I grabbed the machine gun that he'd dropped when I grabbed him and quickly dismantled it, dropping its components to the ground.

Another goon approached me, fists raised. I jumped up and kicked off his shoulders sending him face-first into the floor, while launching myself toward the two remaining armed men.

They hastily loaded their machine guns and began firing. I pointed my fists at either of them, still soaring through the air, and shot two darts from my gauntlets into their necks, injecting them with a heavy sedative.

I landed in front of the two formerly armed men and picked up the guns they had wielded. As I pulled the guns apart, piece by piece, two more thugs ran up behind me. I jumped into the air and flipped backward, landing behind them. As they turned to face me, I swung the dismantled guns in my hands across their faces, sending them stumbling to the ground.

"These guys go down easy, Robin," I said, smiling. "They just don't make them like they used to."

"This isn't the time for jokes, Nightwing. Look."

For the first time, I noticed how the strange, green toxin had completely pervaded the air. I glanced to the other side of the room and saw Robin, the goons and their dismantled weapons at his feet, pointing toward the door.

I looked over and saw a pile of bodies by the door. They had obviously tried, unsuccessfully, to open it.

"Let's check it out," I said.

Robin pulled a small circular pod from his utility belt and launched it into the air. It stuck to a hanging light and the green toxin seeped into it. It was a filter. Clever kid.

I pulled my rebreather off and Robin did the same. Casting them aside, we both cautiously approached the pile of bodies.

I heard a moan. Another. And another. The men rose.

Over 20 thugs and Killer Croc pulled themselves to their feet. Their eyes were red and blood dripped from their sockets. Muscle mass was slightly increased and they seemed almost bestial.

Croc rushed toward me, teeth bared. I leapt over him and, in midair, spun around and threw 3 shuriken at him. As the sleek, projectiles dug into his back, he let out a blood-curdling growl.

Robin had drawn his staff and was almost effortlessly leaping from foe to foe, striking their heads with his glimmering silver staff on the other side of the room.

Croc once again charged toward me but this time I released a smoke pellet and jumped up, leaving him confused in the cloud of vapor. As he struggled to find his way out, I landed behind him and, wielding my escrima sticks, struck the back of his knees, causing him to stumble forward. I jumped over him as he knelt before me and turned to face him. Through the heavy fog, I could see the complete and utter savagery in his glowing red eyes.

I struck him with my escrima sticks, knocking his head from side to side until he fell to the ground.

By this time, the smoke had cleared and I could see Robin still by the doorway fighting.

He was doing very well. Only 7 men were left standing. He put away his staff, grabbed two men by their heads and forced them together in a painful collision. Both thugs fell to the ground. While he moved on to the next criminal, the one behind him drew a handgun and pointed it toward him.

"Robin, look out!" I screamed.

He spun around and the thug shot him in the stomach.

"No!"

I sprinted toward the remaining goons, my adrenaline pumping. I leapt through the air and landed in front of the armed man. I grabbed him arm and bent it back. I heard a sharp crack at his elbow and he dropped the handgun. I slipped my other hand around the back of his head and forced it downward as I brought my knee up to meet it. I jumped backward, letting the shooter fall to the ground, writhing in agony. I landed before two of the four remaining men and slammed their heads together, as Robin did. I then launched myself backward, landing on my hands and kicked the last two thugs in their faces. As they fell backward, hitting their heads on the ground, I walked over to Damian to see how he was doing.

He spoke softly, clutching the wound in his stomach. "I'm sorry, father."

His eyes closed slowly, as he slipped into unconsciousness.

I picked him up and carried him to the Batmobile.

His head tossed from side to side while he spoke, his eyes still closed. "I'm sorry, father. I'm sorry."

As I pulled into the Batcave, I yelled. "Alfred! Prep the med bay!"

"Straight away, sir!" He replied, rushing toward the Batcave's medical station next to the armory.

I lifted Damian out of the car and brought him to the operating table.

"I'm sorry, father. I'm sorry. I've failed. I'm sorry."


	6. Control

_This story takes place during the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapters 7 and 8_

* * *

As I paced through the dank, grimy cave, I couldn't help but think of the worst case scenario.

"What if he dies?" I thought. "What would Bruce think?" I felt shame.

"Wow, Dick. First time on the job and you already lost a Robin."

"No," I muttered to myself. "I've got to pull myself together."

I walked back into the medical bay and was shocked to see Alfred with a smile on his face.

"Good news, Master Richard! Damian is fine."

"Can I see him?" I asked hesitantly.

"Of course," he replied. "Meanwhile, I'll begin running tests on that toxin."

Alfred lifted his white smock over his head and hung it on a hook near the doorway as he left.

I slowly approached the table on which Damian was resting comfortably.

I gingerly extended my hand to touch his face when suddenly, his eyes shot open and his hand darted up to grab mine in midair.

"Don't touch me, Grayson."

"Nice to know you're okay, Damian," I said, rolling my eyes.

"What have you uncovered about the toxin?" he asked, bringing his legs to the side of the table and rising slowly.

"Woah, buddy. I don't think you should be standing just yet."

Damian pushed by me, walking toward the doorway. "And what would you have me do, Grayson? Nothing?"

"Let's just stay in for a while. We stopped Croc and company; let's just call it a night. You need rest."

Damian's eyes filled with disgust. He backed away from me as if I had some sort of disease.

"Rest? Rest!?" he screamed. "You want me to **rest!?**"

"Damian," I said softly. "Calm down."

"No, Grayson! I will NOT 'calm down'! My father's killer is running rampant across the city! The police force is too dimwitted to challenge him! Who do you think is supposed to bring him down!?"

Damian's face was now red with rage.

"You're right, Damian. Bruce taught us to always try. But, above all, he taught us control."

The anger fell from Damian's eyes and was replaced with sadness, shame and regret.

"You need control, Damian."

"Perhaps you're right, Grayson."

Damian slowly walked toward me until his head was almost against my chest.

"Grayson," he said, tears filling his eyes. "Richard. I'm sorry."

Damian pushed himself against me and wrapped his arms around my waist, his head resting against my chest. As tears streamed from his eyes, I put my hands on his shoulders, pushing him back slowly. I knelt down and met him eye to eye.

"Damian?" I said. "Look at me."

He wiped the tears from his face.

"Your father was, is, and always will be, proud to call you his son."

Damian smiled. "Thank you."

"No problem, buddy," I said smiling. "Now, we've got some detective work to do, don't we?"

"But Nygma knows where the cave really is if he knows Batman's identity," Damian said.

"Yeah, but he won't tell because he likes knowing things that other people don't," I replied.

"But I still don't quite understand why the crazed questioner would betray his own men," Alfred said.

"I've got it!" I said, with a feeling of accomplishment. "They weren't his men!"

"Explain, Grayson."

"Well, he betrayed Penguin. He's offing every one of his associates."

"But, why?" Alfred asked.

"Because he's insane. He _has_ to pull this off by himself. He's too megalomaniacal to share the glory with anyone."

"Brilliant theory, Grayson," Damian said. "But, we should keep thinking."

_"What if he was just testing the toxin?"_

_"What is the toxin was meant for us?"_

_ "What if he just needed to kill off Falcone's gang?"_

_"What if it wasn't even him?"_

_ "What if he had a grudge against Croc?"_

"What if it was a distraction?"

"That's it, Damian!" I said. "He was trying to distract us!"

"What do you mean?"

"Croc is expendable, and Falcone would've betrayed him anyway. He's just using them to draw us away from his real scheme. He's been absorbing other gangs, right? What if this gang war was more serious? He probably went after one of the bigger crime lords. Two-Face, Sionis, Maroni."

"I'll check the Batcomputer for alerts," Damian said.

I ran to the armory and quickly donned my costume. I sprinted back to the Batcomputer and met with Damian.

"You were right, Grayson," he said. "A few hours ago someone attacked the Gotham Merchants Bank."

"That's owned by Roman Sionis," Alfred noted.

"Exactly," I said.

"Well, where are the police?" Alfred asked.

"Distracted. Gordon sent almost everyone to clean up the warehouse," Damian said.

Both Alfred and Damian looked at me for orders.

There was only one thing to say.

"Robin? To the Batmobile."


	7. Obsession

_This story takes place immediately before and during the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapter 10_

* * *

The maddening screeches of crows broke the silence of the sleeping city of crime. The crows flew circles around what used to be Roman Sionis, the Black Mask. His face, now more bone than flesh, faced downward, bending at his lifeless neck and suspending over the 3 story, with the bloodstained street below. His arms, bits and pieces pecked off, were bound to one of the bank's many columns.

Not even _he_ deserved to die that way.

"Let's take a look inside, Robin," I said, tearing my gaze away from the mangled and disfigured victim above us.

The doors of the bank were already open. Bullet casings covered the floor, almost as thoroughly as the trails of blood.

I followed the crimson path, Robin at my heels, to find a pile of bodies. Sionis' men, I suppose.

Robin and I split up. He looked upstairs while I stayed in the lobby. It didn't take me long to find the Riddler's first clue. After all this time, he still can't help but leave riddles...

The 'clue' sat on the floor near the manager's desk.

I picked up the sleek cane, it's emeralds glistening.

I placed my hand on the question mark at the top of the cane and pulled it back, opening a hidden compartment. Inside, I found something that I never would have expected.

Nothing.

"It doesn't make sense," I thought to myself.

Robin dropped from the second floor balcony and landed silently behind me.

"What's the matter, Nightwing?"

"He didn't leave a riddle."

"Perhaps Mr. Nygma has recovered from his psychotic obsession," Alfred said.

Damian and I had returned to the Batcave to reflect on the things we'd found at the bank, as well as the things we _didn't_ find.

"I don't know, Alfred," I began. "These obsessions are literally ingrained in the heads of the criminals. Recovering from it isn't really common. Nygma is genuinely disturbed."

"Or…" Damian began. "He's just faking it."

"What do you mean, Master Damian?"

"I think I get what you're saying, buddy." I said. "Riddler leaves clues and gets sent to Arkham. He can escape Arkham whenever he wants to; he practically has Dr. Jeremiah by the balls with the whole 'Black Mask' thing from a while back. Meanwhile, he has a quiet place to think."

I looked at Alfred and shrugged. "It's possible."

Alfred nodded. "I'll agree. It is a possibility; however, you two gentlemen have had a rather lengthy night. I advise you get some sleep."

"Alright, Alfred. Night." I said, turning to the elevator.

"Goodnight, Pennyworth." Damian said, doing the same.

Damian and I ascended into Wayne Manor, clambered to our respective bedrooms, and fell asleep.

Time went by. I don't know how much. Hours.

Before I knew it, Damian had come down to the cave to meet me for patrol.

"Already?" I asked.

"It's 10:30, Grayson."

"Alright, I'll scan for alerts."

The Batcomputer suddenly blared.

"Holy…"

"What is it, Grayson?"

"Riddler took City Hall."

"What?! How could that have happened? Why would he?"

"Just come on. Gordon's already there."

Not long after, we arrived at Gordon's barricade outside City Hall. I approached him and spoke.

"We've been tracking Nygma's activities for a few days now, Commissioner, but his network encryption is too advanced for anything I can handle. We weren't able to retrieve any useful data."

The Commissioner turned to face me, the sorrow in his eyes more real than anything I'd ever seen.

"Son, stop it," he ordered. "He's dead isn't he?"

I looked away, unable to answer. Damian did the same.

"I'm going to look for a way in on the roof," Damian said, fighting tears.

Damian left and I turned back to Commissioner Gordon.

"Commissioner, I don't think he can do this much longer. The poor kid is falling apart. Just contact me privately if you need anything."

"You got it, son," Gordon replied, lighting his cigar.

"Thank you, sir. Did you hear about the bank?"

"Yup, not in time, though. Nygma mucked up our alert system. We're blind over at the precinct. My boys went over for cleanup a few hours after you and Robin left.

"Thank you, Commissioner."

"Hey," he said. "Call me Jim."

"Thank you, Jim," I said smiling. I turned to join Damian on the roof.

"Wait, kid."

"What is it, Commissioner?"

"I'm sorry. He was a good man. Gotham won't be the same without him. Nothing will."

"Thank you. For everything."

"Of course, son. Not many people knew him like we did..."


	8. Feeling

_This story takes place during the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapter 11_

* * *

I sat alone in the cave, as I had been for hours. Maybe days.

"Yes, Commissioner, I'm in the Batcave now. Robin and I are scanning the city. We haven't found anything yet, there was a phone call on the Mayor's line that we were able to recover. Nygma ordered the generators from Luthor. But we don't have enough to bring Lex down with him."

"I couldn't care less about Luthor, son. The goddamn Man of Steel is on _his_ ass. Just tell me about the Riddler."

"As far as I can tell, what he declared is true. The phone call took place not too long ago. It was just minutes before he made the announcement two days ago. So, that means it's possible that they didn't even get to the city yet."

"We should be evacuating citizens but we can't take the risk, in case the generators have already arrived."

"Understood, Commissioner. The rest of the family is already on the way."

"Alright, son. Keep me posted. Gordon out."

"Master Richard?" Alfred asked. "What's this about 'earthquake generators'? You can't mean the ones from Q-Core…"

"I'm afraid so, Alfred," I responded grimly.

"Oh my. It's no wonder you've called in the family…"

"Yeah. Tim is only an hour out, Jason's on his way from Seattle, and Barbara just finished up with the Birds of Prey in Boston."

"Very good, sir." I'll have meals prepared. It'll be a long night, I'm sure."

Damian eventually came down from the manor. I told him to stay there for the night and rest. That's not going to happen.

"Well, Grayson?" he asked. "Is it true?"

"We can't know for sure, but we have to assume that the earthquake generators are already in place. He ordered them from Luthor two days ago."

"Very well. We leave the moment everyone arrives. Not a second later." With that, Damian spun around and marched off deeper into the cave, presumably heading for the training platform.

I continued to scan the city for any sign of the generators. If only I knew what radio frequency they used. If I had that, I could easily track them down…

Maybe I can lock him out of the city's municipal network. Take control away from him.

I stayed in the cave for at least another day. I knew he was watching. The cameras behind me whirred. I want him to watch. I want him to see that we won't give up.

My eyes burned from the bright light of the Batcomputer's monitor against the dark walls of the Batcave.

Alfred descended the staircase.

"Master Richard!"

I ignored him.

"Master Richard!"

My work is too important.

"Richard!" he yelled, throwing his hand onto my shoulder and pulling me away from the monitor.

"You have been down here far too long. I cannot allow you to remain in this dank cavern of despair any longer. Besides, your family has arrived…"

"Alright, guys. Listen." I began. "It's been four days since Riddler announced the generators. They are likely in the city by now. Two-Face turned up dead not long ago, which means Nygma is back to picking off the competition."

"Just give us the mission so we can be on our way," Jason said, slightly angrier than usual.

"We've got to comb the sewers. Nygma says there are three generators scattered around. We _are_ going to find them. You are, under no circumstances, to engage the Riddler or go near City Hall. I've bugged his system, so as long as he doesn't know we're on to him, we can keep monitoring for clues about the locations of the generators."

"Alright, Dicky," Tim said.

"Whatever," Jason grumbled.

"Very well, Grayson. Damian said.

The three of them went down to the Batcave to ready themselves for the night.

Alfred went to the kitchen and Barbara still stood in front of me.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, her voice soft and sweet.

"I've been better," I muttered. "But I've got to stay strong for the team."

"Everyone has to feel, Dick. That's something he never understood. Something you reminded him of every day."

"I know, Babs. It's just-"

"Shh." She interrupted me by placing her finger over my mouth.

She gazed into my eyes.

I gazed into hers.

Green, soft, beautiful.

She leaned toward me, putting her arms around my neck.

Our lips met and suddenly, I started to feel.

I stopped worrying. I put an end to my regret.

In her lips I found hope.

I found feeling.

I found purpose.


	9. Purpose

_This story takes place during the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapter 12_

* * *

"Look, man! In the sky!" a thug screamed.

"It's Him!" another cried in awe and fear.

"Let's get out of here!" a third yelled.

I swoop from the sky and land in front of the fleeing arsonists. Some of Anarky's men. As if there wasn't enough going on already...

I reach into my utility belt and pulled out two glimmering batarangs. I launched one toward the thug on the left, the other to the one on the right. Both fell to the ground as the sleek projectile hit the side of their white masks.

The one in the center quickly drew a handgun and pointed it toward me.

"Don't get any closer! You hear me?!"

I sprinted forward as the anarchist fired, lowering into a forward roll to avoid the bullet. I sprung up from the ground in front of the now terrified man and grabbed his forearm, twisting it until the gun was dropped. I then pulled his arm downward and watched as his body came down with it, bringing my knee up to meet his face.

I turned away from the unconscious men and approached their victim.

"Are you alright, sir?" I asked, my voice low and growly.

"Yes, thank you! Thank you! They were forcing me to join their gang. I thought… Riddler said you were…"

"I'll always be here to protect Gotham. Always."

I retrieved the grapple gun from the back of my utility belt and shot it at the roof of a nearby building.

As I rose into the night sky the man yelled, "Thanks again, Batman!"

* * *

_2 HOURS EARLIER:_

"He would be proud, Master Richard."

"I hope so, Alfred. I don't know if I could ever live up to his expectations."

"You have, Richard. You have most definitely."

I walk past the Batcomputer and into the armory.

I continue on past all of the gadgets. I pass right by my escrima sticks, resting comfortably on a shelf. I won't need them.

Finally, I reach my destination.

The Batsuit Mk. II.

I place my hand on the scanner in front of the Batsuit chamber.

Green light emits from beneath my palm as the system acknowledges my security clearance.

The machine spoke. "Grayson, Richard. Access level: High."

The glass surrounding the Batsuit slowly slid open. I pulled the armor down from the chamber and slid it on. I stepped into the boots, slipped my hands into the gloves, and smoothly pulled the mask over my face.

I emerged from the armory with a triumphant glow. I felt strong enough to fight Bane.

"Alright, Alfred. You're on computer. I'm heading out. Where's Robin?"

"Near the docks, sir. Some of Anarky's misfits have started a riot."

"I'm on my way. Let him know I'm coming."

* * *

_NOW:_

On top of the roof, Damian stood on an air conditioning duct.

"You look nothing like father," he said, turning away from me.

"I'm not trying to replace him, Damian. No one can."

"Then, why? Why steal his identity?"

"You've seen how many more criminals are on the streets. Gotham needs a Batman."

Damian still didn't return my gaze.

I went on. "…and Batman will always need a Robin."

Damian slowly turned to face me and for the first time in the past week, he smiled.

I smiled back.

* * *

"Oh, god! It's that Hood guy!"

"He's gonna kill us!"

"RUN!"

"Five thugs," Jason thought. "No problem."

He revved the engine of the Batcycle and sped off after the criminals.

Once he was within range of the men, he leaped off of the Batcycle and landed on the unlucky man who had fallen behind.

"One down, four to go," Jason said. "I missed this job."

"Master Jason!" Alfred's voice rang from the communicator in Jason's helmet. "What on Earth are you doing?! The entrance to the sewer system is a block behind you!"

"Let me just finish off these purse-snatchers, Al."

Jason, still running after the men, reached into his brown leather jacket and pulled out one of his handguns.

With a faint click and four loud bangs, the criminals fell.

"Jason!" I yelled into the communicator. "I told you not to kill anyone!"

"I didn't, Dick. I just kneecapped 'em. Jesus..."

* * *

"Hey, Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Timothy?"

"Do you think you could send me a map of this place? It's like the Labyrinth down here."

"Of course, sir. Let's see... The sewers under Amusement Mile..."

Tim continued on through the sewage and slime.

"Ah!" Alfred exclaimed. "Here we are, sir. I'm sending the blueprints to you now."

"Thanks, Alfred."

* * *

"Barbara, you there?"

"Yeah, Dick. What's up?"

"How're things going on your side of the sewers?"

"Not well. I just found some barrels full of chemicals, they looked like bomb components. I was about to report it to Alfred."

"Oh, god. When does it stop?"

"It will, eventually, Dick. Just not tonight."

"Mark the location of the components and be careful. There are probably hostiles around."

"No problem, Dick. I'll keep you posted."

* * *

"Alright, buddy." I said. "Let's get to work."

Damian looked at me and smiled, ready to follow me anywhere.

"We've got a job to do, Robin."

"I'll drive."


	10. Victim

_This story takes place during the events of Nowhere to Climb: Chapters 13 and 14_

* * *

"Alfred! Patch me through to everyone," I said. "It's important."

"Straight away, Master Richard."

"Guys,stop your searches and head back to the Batcave. I just got off with Gordon. Riddler surrendered."

"What? That doesn't make sense." Tim proclaimed.

"Tim's right, Dick." Barbara said. "Something's up. Riddler wouldn't just surrender. I doesn't fit with his psychosis."

"Isn't it enough that he's a loony?" Jason asked.

"I'm afraid not, Master Jason. The Riddler is immeasurably intelligent."

"Just listen to our leader, Todd. The Cave. Now." Damian's voice was as cold and sharp as a frozen dagger.

We all stood around the Batcomputer. Barbara and I on the left side; Jason, Tim, and Damian on the left; and Alfred in the chair at the control panel.

"The report says that Riddler incapacitated all of his men and then hijacked the Good Morning Gotham news channel to broadcast a message." Tim said.

"I know, Tim," I replied. "Alfred's pulling up the footage now."

"Here it is, Master Richard. Allow me to fast forward through Ms. Vale's rather invasive interview."

"When did _that_ happen, Alfred?" Tim laughed.

"I'd rather not discuss it, if it's all the same, Master Timothy."

The Riddler's face took form as the static plaguing the news broadcast slowly disappeared.

"_Good morning, people of Gotham! It is I, the Riddler, once again to bring you the latest news within your beloved city! During my siege of City Hall, I indeed took poor Mayor Hady hostage. But what was he doing at City Hall at such an ungodly hour, you ask? Perhaps…"_

The Riddler went on and on. Jason was red with rage. He looked like he was angry enough to punch the screen.

"_Now, on the subject of the Batman, I'm afraid I have unsettling news..."_

Barbara let out a faint gasp and clasped her hand to her mouth.

She had only learned of his death a few days ago. She hasn't really had time to adjust.

"_I have lowered the bridges around the city and will no longer hinder movement in and out, and most importantly, the earthquake machines have been disarmed and deactivated."_

"Good," Jason said. "We're off the hook."

"We can't leave those generators out there, Jason, even if they're not active," Tim replied, annoyed.

"_Gordon? Take me home."_

"Grayson, you're needed at Arkham," Damian said.

No, Gordon can handle that. I've got to track down Warren White. He was working closely with Nygma. We've got to make sure we track him down before he rises to power again with the leftover money. Alfred, keep on the computer. Tim, Jason, head down to City Hall and help with clean-up."

"What am I doing?" Barbara asked.

"You're going after Catwoman. Maybe she has some info on the generators and Damian? You're with me."

…

A day later: Nothing.

"It's like Warren completely dropped off the map."

"Well, Grayson, I consider it unwise to spend more time on it. We should go to Nygma and see why he surrendered. I know you've been putting it off."

"Alright, big guy," I said, unable to repress a smile. "You can read me like a book…"

Arkham Asylum. I've always hated this place. Bruce always said how he didn't trust Dr. Arkham. Lunatics presiding over lunatics. The Arkham Family Legacy.

"Dr. Arkham, I need to speak with one of your prisoners."

"Batman! Edward said that… Everyone thought…"

"I don't have time for this. Open the gate to the cell block."

"Batman, my facility is a place for the deeply disturbed to find peace. I can't allow you and your, um… associate to gallivant around like children at a theme park!"

Dr. Arkham nervously glanced down at Damian, whose fists were clenched in rage. "Uh, no offense, of course."

"Of course," Damian said rather coldly.

I moved toward the doctor, my cape rustling behind me. I grabbed Dr. Arkham by the sleeves of his lab coat and lifted him into the air, pinning him to the glass window of the security room.

"Man! It's good to be the Batman!" I thought as the doctor squirmed in my grasp.

"Where's Nygma!" I yelled.

The doctor's expression slipped from frightened to confused.

"Batman, you are obviously a few steps behind. Mr. Nygma isn't here."

"What? Where is he?"

"Well, his prisoner transit shuttle was attacked a few miles out. He never returned from his trip to the Gotham General Hospital."

"What was he doing there? Doesn't Arkham have medical facilities?"

"He… Well, he…"

"What, Arkham?! I'm getting impatient!" Robin shouted.

"I don't know! The patient examiner wouldn't tell me! It would seem the victim of your constant beating has finally been seriously injured. I hope no one finds you guilty, Detective."


	11. Imposter

Commissioner Gordon stood on the edge of the collapsed bridge connecting Arkham Island to Gotham. Gazing out at the choppy waters below him, Gordon looked more desperate and tired than ever before.

"Commissioner," I said, my cape rustling in the breeze. "What happened here?"

"You'll never believe it."

"Try me."

"Well…" Gordon let out a long and heavy breath. "Riddler was taken hostage. Whoever attacked knew he would be here because heat scans show the charges were places before he ever got to Arkham in the first place."

"Why is a dangerous criminal being brought through my city?" Robin asked.

"I've sent Detective Bullock to Gotham General to find out."

"I thought Arkham's medical wing treats all injuries and illnesses." I said.

"It does, son. Whatever Nygma's got must be serious."

"Alright," I said. "Moving on."

Damian cut in. "Who took him?"

"We aren't sure yet. We picked up a fellow that was part of whatever gang attacked the truck but he won't say a word."

"Where is he?" I asked.

"We have him down at the precinct. I'll let him go when I get back. Probably around 3 o'clock. I'll only need a few more hours down here."

"We'll be waiting for him. Thank you, Commissioner."

"You bet, son."

I turned, pulling the grapnel gun from my belt when Gordon spoke once more.

"And, son?"

I turned back to face him. The dim flame from his cigar softly illuminated the warm smile on his face.

"He'd be proud."

"Thank you, Jim."

Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, Damian and I discussed the probabilities.

"Perhaps it was Luthor sending agents to take him out," he said. "_Loose ends _and all that."

"No, Luthor wouldn't have incriminated himself in the first place. The entire conversation was out of place. You know, when Riddler first ordered the generators. It just seemed _off_, didn't it?"

"Slightly. Doesn't matter. It could be the remnants of one of the gangs he absorbed. No doubt, they'd be out for revenge."

"But that doesn't explain how they knew where he'd be."

"We'll discuss it at the Batcave. Pennyworth will surely have some insight. Where are we going now?"

"We've got to meet Detective Bullock at the hospital and find out why Nygma was going there."

"Aye, Bats!"

I dropped from the top of the building across the street from the hospital into the dank alley below.

"Detective. What did you find?"

"A whole lotta nothin'! The damn medical examiner wouldn't tell me without a warrant."

"You find Gordon to get you the warrant. I'll be in touch."

Robin and I launched our grapnel guns at the roof of the hospital and were pulled toward it. As we neared the top, we swiftly stowed the guns back in our utility belts and tugged on the ends of our capes.

Soaring through the air, I felt the cool city air against me and couldn't help but smile. I'd forgotten how awesome capes are.

Robin and I arrived at the top of the GCPD headquarters with time to kill.

"The suspect won't be released for a while, Batman."

"I know. We have just enough time to check in with the rest of the family."

"Batgirl, come in."

"I'm here, Dick. What's up?"

"How's your mission going?"

"I'm fine, but Selina didn't know anything. She's been locked in her apartment since Bruce… um…"

"Alright, Barbara. I'll see you at the cave."

"Batman to Red Robin."

"Sup, Dicky?"

"How're things at City Hall?"

"We're fine. Everything's calming down. Now that order's been restored City Council is looking into the reports of corruption on Mayor Hady's part. Looks like he's coming down in the next few weeks."

"Alright. If everything's calming down, return to the cave. Babs is on her way there."

"You got it, boss. Jason and I are en route."

"There he is, Grayson," Robin whispered.

"Let's get him, pal."

I dropped down to the street behind the man.

He spun around and his eyes widened at the sight of me.

While his focus was on me, Robin dropped on the other side of him, trapping him between us.

He turned to run but stopped as Robin raised his fists menacingly.

"Step into my office," he smiled.

Robin then, in the blink of an eye, extended his fist to punch the man in the face.

The man grumbled and fell to the ground, unconscious.

When the thug awoke, he was startled by the view of the 27 story drop he was suspended over.

Tied to the flag pole atop of the Gotham National Library, the man squirmed and shouted.

"Calm down," I said. "You don't want those ropes coming loose."

"Tell us about the attack," Robin said.

"You cannot stop him," he said. The man was obviously of Hispanic descent.

"Stop who?" I asked. "Who are you working for?"

The man laughed. "He will rule Gotham. You cannot stop him. He always wins."

Robin drew a batarang from his belt and began cutting the rope holding the man to the flag pole.

"Tell me, cur. Or suffer the consequences."

The man laughed. "He will reveal himself soon enough. Sooner than you think."

"Back to the cave, Robin. We'll discuss things there."

The moment we entered the dank, grimy cavern, Alfred shouted at us in a frantic rave.

"Master Richard! Hurry!"

We ran after him. He was leading us to the main platform.

"What is it, Alfred?" I asked.

"The Batcomputer. We've been compromised! All of our data has been remotely corrupted!"

Tim, Jason, and Barbara stood around the monitor.

"What's going on, Tim?" I asked.

"See for yourself," he said, tapping the keyboard.

The monitor blinked to life at the activation of the keyboard.

The Batcomputer's screen was mostly black, like a void. White lettering spelled the words:

_THE IMPOSTER WILL BE BROKEN_

"Where'd the virus come from?" I asked.

Jason answered, pulling his glimmering crimson helmet over his head and setting it on the table beside.

"We tracked it to a ship off of Arkham Island, hidden by advanced cloaking tech."

"Where's the ship from?" Damian asked.

Alfred stepped forward, his face full of worry. "Santa Prisca."

The shock hit me like a tidal wave. As the surprise washed over me, fear and worry took its place.

"It's him?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Yeah," Jason said.

Alfred swallowed almost painfully. "Bane has returned."


	12. A Note From The Author

Well, it looks like we've reached the end of our story, my friends.

With the Bat-Family in shambles, the Riddler captured, and Bane preparing a deadly assault on the people of Gotham, pages after pages of excitement is sure to ensue!

After a short break, this saga will continue with a new story entitled, Nowhere to Run, in which our young protagonists struggle against foes old and new, while forming unlikely alliances with some of Gotham's most diabolical villains.

I would like to thank you all for your support and dedication to the story. I look forward to hearing your feedback after the first chapter of Nowhere to Run is posted on July 28th!

Thanks again!

-RedTalon


End file.
